Please Be Okay
by Kinikia
Summary: Kensi and Callen find the missing Sam and Deeks. Be advised: this is a follow-up to a fairly violent episode (Descent) of NCIS L.A. The focus is on characters who have just been subjected to torture; the faint of heart or stomach, you have been warned.
1. Chapter 1 - Mental Cruelty

**AN: This story takes place just after the Season 4 finale of NCIS L.A. (Descent). Be advised, the episode itself contained violent content, and as I am continuing the scenario, so too does my story. The focus is on characters who have just been submitted to torture, so anyone who is not comfortable with that, please read no further.**

**Thank you, everyone who has posted a review. I am new to writing, and I really appreciate the feedback.**

**If you enjoy this story, please check out my other work: Densi Kiss 2 (NCIS L.A.), L.A. Supernatural (NCIS L.A. / Supernatural crossover)**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Sidorov came back into the room, wiping his hands on a bloody rag. Sam's heart was beating hard. Moments before, Deeks had been screaming, but now there was only an ominous silence. Had they killed him?

Sidorov spoke, 'Your friend is out again. He has not your stamina, yes?' Internally, Sam sagged in relief. On the outside, he sat stoic, staring straight ahead and doing his best not to give away how much hearing Deeks' torment had affected him.

Sidorov leaned in close, studying Sam, taking note of the sweat and the rapid pulse. In his threatening Russian accent, he murmured, 'I think it hurts you more when we hurt him, than when we hurt you directly. Good, I want you to hurt.' He straightened. 'We must go now if we are to make the meet. But if I find out that Quinn has betrayed me, I will return and you and your partner will learn the true meaning of pain.'

He moved to stand in front of Sam. 'In fact, I will bring her here, to join our little party. I will put another chair here, facing you, and then I will do to her everything that I have done to your friend in there.' Sam sat without moving, but felt his skin shrinking over his bones as his insides turned to ice.

Sidorov turned and placed a gun on the table beside the machine that had dealt Sam so much pain. Sam knew it was meant as another form of psychological torture, to have a gun so near at hand, but utterly out of reach. He'd never wanted to kill anyone so badly in all his life.

'In the end, she will ask only for this, for a merciful end to her pain. Perhaps,' Sidorov mused, 'perhaps I will give you that option. Would you shoot her, David, if I put this gun in your hand?'

Sam sat, saying nothing, but nightmare scenes played out behind his eyes. Sidorov laughed, knowing he'd gotten to him. 'Well enough for now. I shall see you soon, sooner than you wish.' With that, Sidorov went back into the other room, collected his henchman, and they left.

'Deeks!', Sam called, desperate for some response from the still form he could somewhat see through the dirty glass panes of the door into the garage. 'Deeks, are you with me?'

But Deeks did not move. Sam was alone in the sudden silence, with only his own demons left to torment him.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rescue

The way Callen was driving, they came in hot, but Kensi was out of the car before it had come to a full stop. She moved toward the house in a controlled rush, gun out and up, on the hunt.

'Dammit Kensi, wait for me!', Callen hissed, rushing to back her up.

Kensi never heard him, she was a woman on a mission, determined to get to her partner at all costs. How could she have left him like that, after that incredible kiss? She hadn't given him any indication of how she felt, after he'd had the balls to take such an incredible risk.

She'd been overcome, completely swept away by the intensity of the emotions that he'd engendered in her with that one simple action. She'd needed space, a moment to catch her breath, and there'd been no time!

She'd had to leave, but she hadn't gotten more than a mile down the road when she'd felt an overwhelming urge to turn back, jump him, and ride him to the ground. Oh yeah, she was into it. And yeah, there on the bike, alone with her thoughts, she could finally admit to herself, she was into him too. In the head-over-heels, over-the-moon sense. Holy cow, she was in love with her partner.

And now he was missing, and in trouble, and she hadn't been there to watch his back. How was she supposed to live with that, if he died? She would never be able to forgive herself, never. She had to find him, and he had to be okay. That was all there was to it.

Kensi and Callen breached the front door, and swept into the too-quiet house, alert for any signs of movement. Moving in silent synchrony, they cleared each room they passed, but so far it was a whole lot of empty; there wasn't even any furniture.

Nell had assured them that the tracking signal was coming from this place though. Kensi felt a surge of pride. Her clever partner had made sure they could be followed. He must have sprayed the trackable liquid on his gun. It was the one thing they'd be sure to take from him, before he went into the water. She cursed the time it had taken Eric and Nell to notice the tiny signal.

Nell's voice was in their ears now, guiding them deeper into the heart of the large residence. Finally, they came to a closed door, and Kensi waited impatiently as Callen cautiously tried the doorknob. It turned without sound, and he gave her a look that asked, 'Ready?' She nodded, and he threw the door wide.

They burst into the small room ready for anything, but there were no Russian baddies waiting for them. What they did find filled Kensi with both relief and dread. It was Sam, tied to a chair, and looking like he'd been run over by a truck.

'Sam!', Callen exclaimed, and rushed to his partner and friend.

'I'm fine, they're gone,' Sam said in a rusty voice. He pointed with his chin toward the door opposite him. 'Deeks, get to Deeks.'

Kensi was way ahead of him, she'd seen a silhouette she recognized instantly through the translucent glass. Uncaring of her own safety, she threw herself through the door, only to stop cold at the sight that greeted her. If there had been anyone else in the room, she'd have been dead, for her horrified eyes were glued to the battered and bloody form of the the man she loved.

Her stomach turned over as the scent of blood and sweat hit her. In the next moment, she lurched forward, her rubbery legs barely supporting her. She fell to her knees beside the chair Deeks was tied to, and fumbled at his bound wrist for a pulse.

'Deeks! Deeks, it's Kensi. Talk to me!' Her eyes frantically searched his face for signs of life. He wasn't conscious, and bloody spittle drooled from his slack and swollen mouth. One eye was black and swollen shut, and cuts and bruises marred his handsome face. His clothes, hair, and face were blood-splattered, and more blood pooled in his lap, below his hanging head. Dear god, what had they done to him? Did he have internal injuries?

Her hand was trembling too much for her to be able to read a pulse at his wrist, so she reached for his neck. As she brushed up against his jaw, he started, and she could see consciousness rush back. With it came pain, and he stiffened and arched against his bonds. He made a strangled sound, like he'd swallowed a scream, and opened the one eye he could.

'Deeks,' she all but sobbed, 'Deeks, I'm here.' As he made eye contact, she freed one of his hands, and grasped it tightly. He clearly was unable to speak, but he slowly and painfully curled his arm inward. She held her breath, thinking he was guiding her to some severe wound, but he simply took their clasped hands and held them to his chest, directly over his heart. Tears flooded her eyes, her own heart nearly breaking in that moment. Then his eye closed again, as he struggled with overwhelming pain.

'Callen!', she screamed, panic riding her hard. His pain was tearing her up, she'd have given anything to stop it. '_Callen_!'

Callen rushed to the doorway, fear striking to the marrow. He'd never heard the unflappable Kensi sound so scared. God, was Deeks dead?

He, too, came to a halt when he got his first look at his wounded teammate, and the frantic Kensi kneeling beside him. Kensi looked up at him. 'God Callen, he's so hurt. Get a medic!'

'Nell?', Callen asked, and she told them both that an ambulance was on the way. 'Sam's hurt too, they've both been tortured,' Callen gravely informed the anxiously waiting team back at Ops. 'How long?', he asked, but realized he could faintly hear the siren even now.

There was nothing he could do for Kensi or poor Deeks, so he went back to Sam, who was struggling to free himself from the last of his bonds. Sam made a determined effort to get up and head toward Deeks, but Callen easily pushed him back into the chair. 'Where do you think you're going?'

'I need to see for myself,' Sam told Callen urgently. 'Deeks sacrificed himself to save me. And he didn't give up Michelle, so I owe him my life twice over. I'm never going to be able to repay him for what he did.'

'You can't help him, even if you were in any shape to do so,' Callen told him. 'Deeks has what he needs, and that's Kensi. You can take it up with him later.'

'Just tell me he'll live,' Sam pleaded. Deeks' screams still echoed in his ears, chilling his soul.

'He's got a lot to live for,' Callen responded. 'He'll make it.' He didn't actually know the extent of Deeks' injuries, but he wasn't about to tell Sam anything otherwise.

Finally, after a subjective eternity, Callen heard the paramedics moving through the house. He went to guide them in, and Sam took advantage of the opportunity. Though pain screamed through every muscle and joint at the movement, nothing could have stopped him from getting across that accursed room, to reach his partner at last.

Like Callen, he stopped in the doorway, and silently took in the heartbreaking tableau. He soaked in the pain of the brave man before him, and that of the woman who felt it with him. Guilt tried to send him to the ground, but he accepted the heavy burden. It was one he'd have to learn to bear, for it would be with him always.

The medics rushed in, and one tried to see to Sam, but he directed both to Deeks. Kensi sobbed in relief, and demanded immediate meds to ease his pain. They gently but firmly moved her back, though it seemed to break something in her to separate from him.

Callen came up behind her and held her shoulders while they watched the medics take his vitals, then ease him out of the torture chair and onto a stretcher. She trembled quietly under Callen's hands, just barely restraining herself from going back to Deeks, and not able to take her eyes off him.

Just before they carried him out, Deeks looked up, directly at her as if he was as aware of her as she of him, and gave her a thumbs-up. Tears poured down her cheeks, but she smiled widely, and blew him a kiss.

The medics moved off, and Kensi followed close behind. As they passed Sam, she put a hand on his arm and anxiously inquired, 'Are you okay?' She felt guilty now, that she'd hardly given a thought for such a good friend's welfare, having been so consumed with Deeks.

'I'm good, Kensi. Don't worry,' Sam assured her. 'Go with him.'

Callen followed her to Sam, asking, 'Can you walk?', even though he'd obviously gotten himself across the room. Sam nodded, and took a deep breath, bracing for more pain. Callen got a shoulder under his arm, and helped his partner make his slow way to the outside, and freedom.


	3. Chapter 3 - Recovery

Deeks screamed with everything he had in him, but it didn't help. Pain blotted out the world, and he had to get away, he had to, but he couldn't! He couldn't take this, it had to stop. Dear God, please, make it stop!

Recognizing a breaking point, the man torturing Deeks stopped the drill, and stepped back. Sidorov released his head, and Deeks slumped forward, gasping for air. Sidorov stepped around the chair to face Deeks, grabbed a handful of his hair, and yanked his head back so that Deeks was forced to look at him.

'So,' Sidorov asked, 'are you ready to tell me what I wish to know? Or shall I have Mikhail resume his work?'

Deeks glanced over at the silently looming tormentor, feeling fear coil like a serpent around his heart. He knew what they wanted, but how could he betray his friends, betray Sam and Callen and Kensi? It hurt to even think of Kensi, of what she'd think of him, if she knew that he was seriously considering putting a surcease to his pain over their welfare.

Sidorov searched his eyes for a moment, then released him and stepped back. 'Very well,' he said, 'we continue.' He motioned Andros forward, and Deeks panicked. He couldn't take any more. Surely no one could be expected to endure so much?

Deeks made an incoherent sound, and Sidorov held up a hand to halt Andros a moment. Between the damage to his mouth, and the brutal metal device holding it cranked open, Deeks was unable to speak. Knowing this, Sidorov began to ask yes-or-no questions.

He started off easy, with a question he already knew the answer to, 'Is David an agent?' Deeks closed his eyes in anguish, but he nodded. 'Are you his partner?' Deeks nodded again.

Now Sidorov paused, having to brace himself for the answer to the question that truly mattered, 'Is Quinn also an agent?'

Agonized, Deeks held his eyes without moving, knowing that telling him the truth would get Sam's wife killed. 'Is she?!', Sidorov thundered, grasping Deeks around the throat and renewing the firestorm of pain in his face. Deeks cried out, then slowly nodded once more.

Sidorov roared in anguish, and ripped the metal device from Deeks' mouth, breaking teeth in the process. Deeks writhed in his bonds, lost to screaming pain once more.

When Deeks came back to himself enough to perceive his surroundings, he was forced to face a new torment. Sidorov and his henchman were gone, but he could hear Sam now, who was yelling at the top of his lungs. He wasn't being tortured, he was in a raging fury, cursing Deeks to everlasting hell for giving up his wife.

Deeks cringed, guilt and shame overwhelming him. He'd cracked, he'd broken, he'd betrayed the people he was closest to, and he'd betrayed himself. He wished miserably that Sam would free himself, and get in here and kill him already.

Then a new thought occurred, one that froze him to the core. Kensi, Kensi was Michelle's backup. Whatever went down, she would be at the heart of it. His imagination immediately offered up a nightmare scenario.

...

Sidorov had Michelle by the throat, her body shielding his, while Kensi leveled her gun at them both and demanded his surrender. She was surrounded though, the guns of the other forewarned criminals pointed at her.

Sidorov held up a device, a trigger mechanism for the bomb that he was about to sell, and said, 'You really don't want to shoot me, my dear.'

Callen stepped out of cover behind Sidorov, and held a gun to his head. 'How about I shoot you, then?'

Hetty emerged on Sidorov's other side, pointing a gun just as calmly, 'Or would you like me to do the honors?'

There was a controlled rush in the background, as the Red team came up behind the other men. For a moment, it looked as though they'd won, but Sidorov had reached his breaking point. Maddened by Quinn's betrayal, he was not a man who was capable of reason.

Sidorov swung Michelle to the right, throwing her into Callen. He fired into both of them, and they went down. Kensi shot at Sidorov, even at she herself was shot by one of the men behind her. A storm of bullets raged briefly in the background, but Deeks was concerned only with Kensi.

She lay on the ground, bleeding profusely from a wound high in her abdomen. She still had her gun pointed at Sidorov, who lay mere feet away, a growing stain spreading over his own chest. He laughed insanely at the sky, and she shot him again, but it was too late. He pushed the button.

Deeks' mind screamed denial as everything vanished in an actinic glare. They were gone, all of them, obliterated. She was obliterated...

...

Deeks sat bolt upright, panic strangling him. He felt a cold sweat break out all over his body, and knowing what came next, he lunged from the bed. He barely made it to the toilet before his body attempted to expel all the pain, fear, and self-loathing through his mouth. He hadn't broken, he'd held strong, but someone really needed to tell his subconscious.

Kensi sat up in bed, her heart aching at the sounds of misery coming from the bathroom. The nightmares were getting worse. During the day, unless you knew him really well, he appeared to be his old self, cocky and quick-witted. But she could see the signs of stress, the fatigue, the brittleness. He'd recovered physically from the ordeal he'd gone through, but hadn't been cleared to return to work. He was going to therapy, but as far as she could see, it wasn't working.

She knew the routine. Next, he'd claim to need air, get Monty, and go for a run. Then he'd watch DVDs to while away the remaining hours until dawn, when he could go and lose himself in the Zen of surfing. She wanted so badly to help him, but she didn't know how, and that was robbing her of her own sleep.

Deeks emerged slowly from the bathroom, moving like everything hurt. Instead of making his usual quick and embarrassed escape though, he moved to the side of the bed, then just stood there with his head hung low. Kensi pushed back the sheet, swung her legs over the side, and sat facing him.

She reached out to touch his waist, and he fell to his knees before her. She opened her legs to give him better access, and he scooted forward, grasped her tightly around the waist, and laid his head on her breasts. She inhaled sharply; this was the first time he'd shown any vulnerability. She cradled that shaggy and beloved head in her arms, and dared to feel hope.

Every muscle of his body was clenched tight, so much so that he was shaking. He spoke in a choked voice, 'God, Kens. I thought I'd lost you...' A huge tide of emotion welled up in him, causing his throat to close, his lungs to lock. All he could do was kneel there, gripping her like a lifeline.

Kensi couldn't feel him breathing, and began to be scared. Then, he heaved a great breath, and the sobs broke free. She held him tight, rocking slightly in an attempt to comfort, as he came apart in her arms. Her own tears fell upon his hair, but even as her heart broke for him, a part of her rejoiced. He'd turned to her, he'd trusted her with this, and it was an amazing feeling.

When the storm had run its course, she tugged him up to lie beside her on the bed. He continued to cling, wrapped around her like he couldn't get close enough. But exhaustion quickly claimed him, and he fell into a deep sleep, truly relaxed for the first time in months. Kensi kissed his brow, and just lay there holding him, treasuring him. Now, she hoped with all her heart, now perhaps he could heal.


End file.
